


Just To Feel Alive Again

by writerstrash



Series: Mr. Stark & His Kid [15]
Category: Spider-Man (Tom Holland Movies), Spider-Man - All Media Types, The Avengers (Marvel) - All Media Types
Genre: Comfort, Depression, Gen, Hurt Peter, Irondad, Pain, Tony Stark Acting as Peter Parker's Parental Figure, Unhealthy Coping Mechanisms
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-12-02
Updated: 2020-12-02
Packaged: 2021-03-09 01:54:07
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,989
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/27366874
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/writerstrash/pseuds/writerstrash
Summary: Peter is depressed. Everything is just so much and he feels so numb. The only thing he can feel is pain - it's the only thing that reminds him he still can feel it all - and he needs to risk his life over and over again to do so. TW for all self-harm/depressing stuff. Sorry for the gloom folks.
Relationships: Peter Parker & Tony Stark
Series: Mr. Stark & His Kid [15]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1402432
Comments: 2
Kudos: 40





	Just To Feel Alive Again

_Step in front of a runaway train_ _just to feel alive again._

 _Pushing forward through the night,_ _aching chest and blurry sight._

* * *

Peter reached out and wiped the steam from the mirror, wincing at the sound of the watery glass, as he finished wrapping the towel around his waist. His eyes were red with exhaustion, his jaw swollen and purple. His reflection showed a few blotchy bruises around his ribs, too. Lifting his fingers, Peter pressed against his face and felt immediate pain. It was like he sticking a nail into his jaw. His eyes started to water as he continued adding pressure, then he pulled his hand away and gripped the edge of the bathroom sink. 

He'd taken more of a beating than he needed too. He was tired. That's what he kept putting it down to. Peter rarely slept through the night, and the few hours of rest he did manage seemed to do nothing to help. He was too tired to put up more of a fight, his focus was blurry. 

But deep down, Peter knew he was pulling his punches. He knew he was ignoring his instincts, letting their knives and bullets scrape along his skin, letting his body suffer just because he could.

* * *

"Dude, I thought you had like, super-healing?" Ned asked, looking concerned.

"It's not _super_ healing, Ned. It's just kind of...accelerated," 

"You look like someone hit you in the face with a baseball bat,"

"Actually, I'm going with the story that I got hit by some some scaffolding," Peter reminded. "And it won't look as bad tomorrow, anyway,"

Ned stared back at his friend, worried. 

"So, who was it?"

"A drunken biker," 

"That's it? No crazy power?"

Peter scoffed, looking to Ned.

"What do you mean, that's it? He was a big guy," he defended. "You think you could take him without getting a few bruises?"

"Peter, that's a _bad_ bruise, dude. You never look like this."

Peter sighed, trying to pretend to be interested in his lunch. He could feel Ned's eyes on him, though. 

"I got distracted, it was only for a second, and he landed a pretty good punch," 

That's what he told Tony a few months ago, too. That had resulted in a lecture about how dangerous it was to go out on patrol when he had so many other things on his mind. Tony told him that he never wanted to see Peter with bruises like that again. 

But he did, and each time Peter had a new excuse. Tony knew that taking hits was part of the job, but seeing Peter beaten up and in pain did things to his heart. 

"I need you to be more careful, okay?" he had pleaded.

"I will, I'm sorry Mr. Stark,"

"Hey, it's okay, I just don't want you getting hurt," Tony soothed. 

_Too late,_ Peter thought. He couldn't remember not being hurt. Every single day felt like he was still recovering something, and it only got worse.

* * *

Peter knew that he didn't feel as happy as he used to, if he ever really was. Nothing took his interest anymore. He spent so long thinking of what he could or should be doing that hours would pass him by and he would go into a cycle of staring at the walls until the sun went down again. Every day was exactly the same. Peter changed nothing. Everything he did felt like it was for nothing. Sure, Spider-Man helped so many people, but he also ignored so many others. He couldn't be in a thousands places at once, he knew that. But what happens when someone is screaming for help in the streets and Peter is at home watching cartoons and eating pizza or doing his homework or _sleeping?_ They needed him, and he let them down.

Maybe it really did all come back to Uncle Ben. Maybe his issue with letting these things go was the fact that he let his uncle die. Maybe his purpose from then on became helping others, not because he could, but because he should. He deserved to be punished for letting Ben die, for not being there to stop it, for not being faster. If he had to be miserable and numb, Peter could take it, as long as he could do _something_ to help. 

Peter was on a routine patrol one night when he came across two men attempting to break into a car in a deserted parking lot. For a moment, he sat on top of the street light watching as the men struggled, wondering if they would give up and leave. But then he watched them pull a crowbar out of a bag, and he knew they weren't planning to leave with nothing.

"Nice car," he called out. "Most people use their keys though. Unless...wait, is this _not_ your car?"

The two men looked up at him with a gasp, their expressions a mix of shock and anger. 

"Haven't you got better things to do?" one of them replied.

"I was just about to ask you guys the same thing!" Peter laughed. 

Peter could have easily webbed the men to the pavement and called the police to take care of the rest. This was by far one of the most common crimes Peter had to deal with, but tonight he felt like pushing them. He felt like making them angry. Angry enough to hurt him.

Karen had warned him that the men were armed, sensing a knife in one of their pockets, but Peter didn't stop his taunts. 

"Where's all your tricks, Spidey?" one of them chuckled. 

Peter flicked his wrist and webbed up the crowbar, tossing it to the side before he jumped down in front of them. 

"You've got one chance, right now, to walk away and we'll all save ourselves the trouble," Peter warned.

They both grinned, obviously entertained.

"You know, I know a lot of people that have dealt with you, and I gotta say, this is pretty disappointing," the man sighed. 

"I guess you don't want to take your get out of jail free pass, huh?"

Peter ended up with a concussion that night. 

His eyes were swollen and purple, he had a broken rib or two, and he couldn't walk without limping in pain. 

That's when Tony started monitoring the suit footage. 

* * *

Tony had set up boundaries with Peter a long time ago. Ever since the Vulture, he had learned to put a lot more trust in Peter and respect his privacy. There were protocols in place if Peter was seriously injured and the teen had emergency alerts installed in his suit in case he ever wound up in a situation like that again. But Tony should have looked more closely at his patrol footage the moment he started to notice Peter's injuries.

The kid wasn't as talkative as he used to be, but he also had so much going on at school and with his own personal relationships that Tony never wanted to pry. He never wanted to make Peter feel like he wasn't acting normal, that he owed it to Tony to give 100% all of the time. Working in the lab, Tony barely noticed Peter's mood. The boy was usually quiet when he was stuck into a project, and when they worked together on Spider-Man upgrades, he was always full of ideas and excitement.

But something had changed, and Tony wished he knew when. He wished he had paid more attention to the early signs that Peter was not okay. They had been dancing around the idea of Tony being a father figure to Peter for such a long time, and yet Tony still didn't want to overstep. 

Right now, he was scanning through all the footage from the past few weeks, looking for moments when Peter was injured.

"Detected, boss," Friday alerted. 

Tony turned his attention to the specific clip of footage that Friday had selected, feeling his stomach churn with worry. There was a person, their face covered, standing over Peter and continually hitting him with his fist. Peter's head kept rolling backwards with the impact, but he didn't retaliate straight away. He let this person get in their fair share of punches before he eventually shoved them off him effortlessly. Tony thought that maybe Peter had momentarily lost consciousness, but from the vitals displayed, he was still awake. 

Another clip had Peter staring down at his arms, covered in bruises and blood, shaking. But the boy didn't rush to clean his injuries, didn't rush home or to Tony's for help. Instead, he sat on the top of one of the highest buildings in the city and just cried. 

It broke Tony's heart. 

Peter was suffering on his own. He hadn't come to Tony for help, he hadn't said a word, and Tony didn't reach out.

But there was still time. God, he hoped there was still time.

* * *

Peter limped his way along the pavement, taking a deep breath before straightening himself out, hoping to stretch away the aches he felt everywhere. Tony had asked him to come by to help with a suit problem, and as excited as he was to spend some time in the lab with the man, he also felt like he was going to pass out at any moment. He was beyond exhausted, and he was still in bad shape from the previous late night patrol. 

When he made it to the elevator of the tower, he did his best to concentrate on getting himself together. He couldn't limp in front of Tony, he couldn't show that he was in pain, because Spider-Man is meant to be better than this. Peter _knew_ better than this.

Tony has his back to him when he wandered into the lab, punching in his code and closing the door behind him. He was working on something, but as soon as he heard Peter, the screen went blank and Tony turned to face him.

"Hey Pete," he smiled softly. 

"Hey Mr. Stark," Peter grinned, hoping his swollen lip wasn't too obvious. 

"Jeez, big night?" 

Okay, so it was obvious. 

"Oh, it wasn't too bad, I just-"

"Let your guard down for a sec?" Tony finished. "That's been happening a lot, Pete."

Panic.

"Uh, yeah, I-I'm sorry, I just, someone was hiding and I didn't see them and then it was too late,"

"That's been happening a lot, too," 

Peter sighed.

"I know, I'm just a little tired," 

Tony stared at the boy, folding his arms, taking a stance very similar to a concerned parent. He was, really. Kind of.

"Hey, you know you can take a break, right?" 

"And let people get hurt? I can't take a break, Mr. Stark-"

"But you _can,_ " Tony argued. "Other people literally get paid to take care of that stuff,"

Peter shook his head.

"When does that ever work out? Do you think the police go to every single call they get? Even if they do, they don't always get there in time to help anyway. I have an advantage, I can hear when things are happening-"

"Clearly not, Pete. You're so tired that your senses are all out of whack. It's not safe to go out there when you're this exhausted, and you need to take some of that responsibility off your shoulders,"

Peter looked away from him, running a hand through his hair and folding his arms just the same. He was so tired, and now it was pushing him toward annoyed. 

"So, are we working on the suit?"

Tony stared at him in silence for a few moments, concern still in his gaze. 

"If I ask you something, will you be honest with me?"

Peter looked back at him, anger growing.

"Is it about what' we're doing? 'cause I've got a lot of homework, Mr. Stark, and if we aren't fixing-"

"You know Karen monitors your suit and reports to Friday, right? Any time there's suspicious activity, any time you get hurt, any time-"

"I don't want to-"

"You're getting yourself hurt on purpose, aren't you?" Tony asked. 

Peter glared at the man, his arms folded tightly across his chest.

"Why would I get hurt on purpose?" 

"That's what I'm trying to work out, kid."

There was a beat of silence between them as they stared at one another. 

"I don't wear a suit of armour," Peter pointed out. "I can't help that I get bruises,"

"Pete, I watched you take a hit without even _trying_ to block it," Tony added. "A knife went into your leg and you didn't even bother to try and stop the bleeding. You can try and argue with me that you can't help getting hurt, but you can't argue with me about letting it get worse,"

Peter didn't even notice his eyes filling with tears until they were about to overflow. He didn't know what he was feeling more of. Anger, shame, guilt, or sadness. It all hung so heavy over him.

"You're spying on me now?" 

Tony shook his head.

"Don't turn this into something else, Pete. I just want to know what's going on,"

"Nothing's going on," the boy insisted, angry. "You're spying on me. Do you want to take the suit off me again?"

Tony didn't even want to think about what happened last time, and he certainly didn't want to imagine what situations Peter would get in without it. He knew the kid was getting angrier now, but at least he was saying something. At least he wasn't holding it all in. Maybe this is exactly what he needed to do.

"I'm not taking the suit,"

"Then what do you want? Am I not doing a good job?" Peter asked. 

"Pete, this isn't about doing a good job. It's not even about Spider-Man. You need some help, and I can get that for you.I can do whatever you need to help you get through this-"

"I don't want to talk about it. There's nothing to talk about."

Tony sighed. Peter was just as stubborn as the billionaire himself back in his own reckless days. 

"Pete, it's just you and me here, kid. You can talk to me,"

Peter shook his head, looking away from the man. 

"No, I can't,"

" _Yes_ , you can," Tony pleaded. 

"I can't! I can't talk about it!" the boy refused.

"Why?"

"Because it hurts!" Peter shouted, the tears finally breaking him. "It hurts all the time and it's all I can feel and _have_ to feel it because that's all there is for me!"

Peter was so close to collapsing, but Tony was there immediately to pull him into his chest for a tight hug. They kneeled down onto the ground as Peter cried, clawing at Tony's back as if he was afraid that the hug was made up in his head, that Tony wasn't really there. Peter wondered if he had finally gone crazy. Lack of sleep and paranoia could have eaten away at him.

Tony had never felt such a strain on his heart before. This kid, _his_ kid, was deep into the darkness and he should have acted sooner. The idea of Peter holding onto so much pain made him want to break down in tears as well. But he had to stay strong for Peter, he had to help him out of this.

"I'm sorry, I'm sorry," Peter cried.

"No, no you don't have to be sorry, Pete," Tony soothed. "It's gonna be okay, I promise. We're gonna get some help, and you're gonna be okay."

"I can't!"

"You can, I know you can," the man continued to rub Peter's back, rocking him gently. "Peter, you're the strongest person I know,"

Tony could feel the boy shaking his head against Tony's shoulder.

"You are. You might disagree, but you _are_. You're not alone, okay? I'm here. May is here-"

"I can't tell May! Please! If she's upset, it will kill me, please-"

"Breathe, Peter," Tony reminded. "There's nothing happening right now. It's just you and me here. Focus on me, alright? Deep breathe in and out. We can sit here for as long as you want, buddy. I'm not going anywhere. I'm not leaving you."

Peter continued to cry, and there was a moment that Tony thought the kid might start heaving to throw up, but he just whispered into his ear and held him close. After a while, Tony closed his eyes and rocked along with Peter, feeling himself grow tired as well. He felt like he was soothing a baby to sleep, and he had never felt so fiercely protective before. 

"Mr. Stark...I'm broken," he whispered. "There's too much. Too much wrong with me."

"Look who you're talking to, kiddo," Tony shook his head. "I've been broken for most of my life, you know? But we're not a problem that needs to be fixed. We just need some work. I've been in the deepest pits you can imagine, and the people who loved me brought me back out. You have _so_ many people who love you, and we're not gonna let you get stuck down there.”

”I shouldn’t...I shouldn’t be like this. You shouldn’t have to- I’m not- it’s not worth it!” he sobbed. 

“Peter, you’re worth everything. Do you hear me? Everything. You are never a problem to me, or anyone else. We love you, Pete. Let us help.”

Feeling himself grow weak from emotional exhaustion, Peter nodded against Tony’s shoulder and continued to cry quietly until his heart finally began to calm down. Tony felt the boy become heavy in his arms, but he had no intention of moving. Instead he sat there on the floor and continued to run his hand along Peter’s back in comfort, mapping out options for therapists, and figuring out how he was going to explain this to May. But Peter was worth it, and always would be. 


End file.
